


Scarlet Stripes

by LawrenceKinden



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Spanking, Wooden Dowel, babysitter, blizzard, jump rope, nude, spank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24153331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Kudos: 9





	Scarlet Stripes

Helena Joseph stood with her hands behind her back and looked properly attentive and respectful as Mary St. John's mother gave her a stern lecture on how things were to proceed this evening. The first night Helena had babysat Mary, Helena had thought she was in trouble right off and that at any moment, Mrs. St. John was going to take off her belt and beat her with it. Eventually, however, Helena understood that Mrs. St. John always talked as though she were giving a stern lecture. Helena supposed that came with being in charge of the road conditions of a Colorado mountain-pass and handling with all the rough and tumble men who worked for her. She briefly entertained the thought of Mrs. St. John beating those men with her belt and felt her cheeks warm.

"Make sure Mary has all her homework done," Mrs. St. John lectured.

"Yes ma'am," replied Helena in a meek and respectful tone. She kept her head slightly lowered.

"There's frozen dinner in the freezer and Mary is to have a shower before bed."

"Yes ma'am."

"Bed time is nine o'clock. No later. That goes for you too young lady. I should be back by 8:30 but if things run late, I'd better not catch either of you up after nine."

"Yes ma'am."

Mrs. St. John nodded and gave a satisfied grunt.

"I'm off then. You have my cell phone number should you need it." And then the large woman, bundled for the coming blizzard, was gone, not even waiting for Helena's final, "Yes ma'am."

The cold of the snowy late afternoon blew past Helena making her shiver as she let out an explosive sigh. She closed the door behind Mrs. St. John and moved into the living room to regard Mary. The girl was thirteen years old but acted more like she was five. The sullen look she shot Helena suggested they were in for a long evening. Again.

"Do you have any homework?" Helena asked, trying to keep her tone friendly. She slipped her backpack off her shoulders and set it on the floor next to the coffee table.

Mary smirked. "What of it?"

Helena sighed. She had only babysat for the girl twice before and getting her to do anything was a test of patience.

"We could do it together," Helena suggested.

"I'm going to my room." Mary stood from the couch and stalked off.

Helena ignored the other girl for the time being. It was warm inside the St. John household so Helena shrugged out of her winter jacket and the sweater underneath. Her boots and two pair of socks followed to be placed neatly by the door. Then she slipped out of her snow pants and the sweat pants. It was a strange dichotomy to have walked through thick snow to get to the St. John household only moments ago and now be wearing nothing but a pair of pale blue cotton shorts and a white T-shirt.

Comfortable, Helena pulled out her geometry homework and got to work. After about ten minutes, when Helena had finally begun to focus, music pounded from Mary's bedroom, shaking the windows. Helena growled. Clenching her fists, she got to her feet and stomped to the girl's bedroom. Without knocking, she entered, strode to the stereo and turned it off.

Mary popped up off her bed, fists clenched. "What the hell?"

"Watch your mouth, little girl," Helena warned, "I'm trying to do my homework."

"I'm not a little girl."

Helena smirked. "Then why do you need a babysitter?

“Whatever.” Mary crossed her arms and looked away.

“Just keep it down, would you?"

Mary sighed explosively and, rather than answering, shouldered roughly past Helena, and into the hallway.

"Where ya going?" Helena asked.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Mary replied in her snotty voice, "is that all right with you?"

Helena shrugged. In truth she was glad that the girl was going to take a shower since Mrs. St. John had declared it mandatory. It was one less thing she had to try to force Mary to do.

Half an hour later, the shower turned off.

Helena wondered briefly what the girl had been doing in there so long, but decided not to worry about it. She had finished her homework, more or less, and leaned back on the couch to stretch after being hunched over so long. She looked up as Mary walked into the room, clad in a damp white towel. The towel was secured just above the girl's small breasts and left the bottoms of her bottom cheeks exposed.

Mary went into the kitchen and Helena stood to follow.

“What?” Mary demanded as she got a glass from the cabinet.

“I’m just wondering if you’re ready to do your homework now?"

Mary set her glass upon the counter with enough force Helena worried it might have cracked.

"Why don't you get off my back, bitch?"

Helena was stunned. Her face flushed with anger and embarrassment.

"What did you call me?"

Mary puffed herself up with all the bravado a thirteen-year-old could muster.

"Bitch."

Helena lunged for the girl, spun her about, and brought the flat of her palm fast and hard against Mary's partially exposed bottom. Mary's screeched. Before she could move, another burning spank landed. The second spurred her and she spun away, her towel coming free in Helena’s hands.

"What was that for?" Mary rubbed at her naked backside, fury and frustration screeching through her tone.

"Are you kidding?" Helena shouted. “You do not get to—“

Mary leapt forward and slapped the older girl across the face, hard enough to leave a handprint.

For a frozen moment, the girls stared at each other in shock and fury.

Mary recovered first and sprinted for her room with Helena hot on her heels. The girl tried to close the door behind her but Helena lowered her shoulder and barreled into it, throwing it open. But doing so, she stumbled and fell to her hands and knees.

Mary stood in the middle of her room, her babysitter suddenly sprawled upon her floor, vulnerable. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on Helena’s pale blue shorts, riding tight against the older girl's bottom. Mary sprang upon the opportunity, raising her hand high and bringing it down hard on Helena's bottom. Helena cried out and fell to her elbows, thrusting her backside high. Mary spanked her babysitter again, harder than before.

The burning embarrassment surged Helena to her feet. She backed away from Mary, rubbing her bottom, surprised at the sting.

Mary grinned.

There was a stretched moment.

The girls lunged for each other, each trying to wrestle the other to the floor, but it was Helena, taller and stronger who soon had Mary shoved face down on the carpet, wrists pinned to the small of her back. Mary was slippery and squirmy, but Helena pinned her with her shin across Mary’s shoulder and spanked the naked girl’s bare backside.

The first mighty smack left a handprint on the left cheek of the already splotched bottom. The white handprint surrounded by a pink outline soon turned stark red. Mary howled and thrashed. The second spank landed on the right cheek and left another imprint.

"You horrid little brat!" Helena groaned. “This is the least you deserve.” She spanked Mary in the middle of her pert little bottom. Then

Mary sobbed, tears of humiliation and pain tumbling down her cheeks. She had already disliked Helena, but this was worse than being an uppity, know-it-all, bitch. This was going too far and Mary refused to just take it. She redoubled her thrashing just as Helena eased off.

Caught off guard, Helena stumbled back and Mary scrambled to her feet. The naked girl sprinted from the room and several moments later, Helena was after her.

Outside, the blizzard arrived.

The house grew dim.

Helena paused. She wished she’d left some lights on. She wished she hadn’t let her temper get the better of her. She wished she’d kept a tighter hold on the little brat. Now, she paused in the space between bedroom and hallway, straining to catch the hiccuping sob or hard breathing that would betray the location of little Mary St. John.

She could hear nothing.

"Mary," Helena called softly as she crept down the hallway. She flicked the light switch as she passed, throwing the hall into yellow light. "Enough is enough, let's call a truce." She pitched her voice high and gentle, trying to convey sincerity.

Mary stood in the dark of the living room, just around the corner of the hall and waited. Her heart pounded with fear and anticipation. Her bottom throbbed and her body tingled but she stilled her mind and breathed evenly. She heard Helena's call for peace but did not believe it. In her hand, she clutched her instrument of revenge, a jump rope she had taken from the closet by the front door. She held them by their red, plastic hands, smooth in her sweaty grip. It didn't look like much, but last summer Mary had used it to cut the tops off the long grasses growing by the mountain stream near the house.

"Come on Mary, this is silly," Helena continued.

Mary could hear the approach of Helena's bare feet on the carpet. Step by step, the older girl came closer. Panic rose up her spine, and she struggled to hold it. Just a few more steps... She tried to be still and silent as Helena emerged from the hall. If the babysitter looked to the right, she would see Mary and all was lost. But if Helena looked to the left, where the light switch for the living room was...

Mary grinned with grim satisfaction as Helena turned her back on her to turn on the light. In the moment that light flooded the room, Mary brought around her doubled over jump rope to lash across the Helena's back.

The thin cotton of Helena's t-shirt did nothing to protect from the burning pain exploding across her back, from her right shoulder to her left hip. Tears sprang immediately to her eyes but she could not scream. Instead she gasped and arched. The pain was so intense and encompassing that Helena could do nothing else for a moment.

In the moment after whipping her babysitter, Mary reached with her left hand and grabbed Helena's shorts. Not caring that her finger nails caught upon Helena's skin, she jerked the blue shorts and the white underpanties to Helena's knees, leaving scratch marks down the girl's thigh.

Suddenly disrobed from the waist down, Helena was shocked back into action. She tried to spin around to face Mary, but the shorts around her knees hindered her.

Mary brought her rope around again, this time landing a lash horizontally across Helena's naked bottom.

Helena squealed. Squeezing her legs together, she allowed her shorts and panties to fall to her ankles. She turned and raised her left arm, catching the rope as it came about again. With her right hand, Helena caught Mary full in the face with a tremendous slap. The blow spun Mary around and knocked her prone, tummy down.

Breathing hard, the lashings she’d suffered throbbing, Helena knelt next to the gasping girl. She put a hand on Mary's back and raised her other to deliver a righteous spanking, but Mary squirmed and the spank landed on the front of her left thigh leaving another handprint.

Desperate, Mary scrunched up, putting her feet in Helena’s chest, and pushed.

For several moments, the girls struggled to their feet, breathing hard, sweat-soaked and hearts pounding. Neither ready to give an inch to the other.

"My mommy is going to beat your butt with her belt," Mary threatened in a little girl voice. "You're not allowed to spank me."

"Maybe she will," Helena countered. "But if she does, I’ll tell her what you did, and you’ll get it too. Does she know you use such filthy language?"

Mary knew the truth of it. Cursing and fighting weren’t allowed. The two of them were in for it if her mommy found out what they’d gotten up to. She didn’t respond.

“That’s what I thought,” Helena said, her breathing coming under control, but a hitch to her voice. “Now, if you lie over my lap like a good little girl, I’ll just spank you with my hand and won’t tell your mother what a horrid little brat you are.”

Mary felt her resolve stiffen. She pushed back hair was stuck to her face with sweat. "Come try it," she challenged, whipping her rope in front of her, cutting the air.

Helena narrowed her eyes but knew that any move she made would be met with another burning welt. Even so, she wasn't going to give up. This brat would get a bare bottom blistering even Helena had to pay for it with Mrs. St. John’s belt.

Mary stepped forward and swung her jump rope. Helena leapt back but the tip of the jump rope skimmed across her bare skin just under her T-shirt leaving another angry, red welt.

Helena grimaced and Mary grinned.

Helena needed an implement of her own. She looked around and her eyes lighted on bundle of bright red dowels, long, thin lengths of wood used in snowstorms as landmarks.

Mary swung again and this time Helena evaded and sprinted for the dowels. She grabbed one with Mary right behind her. The girl swung again but Helena spun and ducked at the same time, as she did so, she brought her dowel around and against Mary's bare bottom leaving a red welt.

Mary screamed and danced away, her cry devolving to ragged sobs.

Helena backed away and examined her enraged opponent. Red splotches that had the potential to become bruises covered the girl's bottom and across them lay a raised welt. She knew her own body must look similar. Except that Mary was naked and she still had her shirt on. With a sudden, wild decision, Helena whipped her shirt off, leaving her as naked as her charge.

"Ready to give up and take your spanking?" Helena asked.

Mary turned to face Helena, shivering faintly, tears trailing down her cheeks. She looked Helena up and down.

"Maybe you should come take a spanking from me.” Mary shot back. Her voice trembled but she stood up straight and gave her jump rope and swing.

Both girls lunged. Mary brought her whip up, catching the underside of Helena's right breast while Helena thrust with her cane, scratching a mark across Mary's lower right ribs. Both girls grimaced but did not stop. Mary swung her rope at chest level but Helena dropped to her knees and sliced her cane against Mary's right hip. This brought Mary to her knees. Helena stood and took a step to her left, then brought her cane from over her shoulder against Mary's back. With a sobbing groan, Mary fell flat to her tummy. Feebly, she put her hands back to cover her bottom, palms out. Again, Helena struck, this time right across those.

Mary cried out and began to sob.

Helena dropped her dowel. Her chest heaved and she was covered in sweat. She wasn’t sure what to do next. She’d promised to spank the girl, but now she hesitated. She’d gone too far, she could admit that, but Mary had too and Helena still felt like the girl deserved a thorough spanking. At the very least, Helena didn’t want the girl to think she wouldn’t deliver on a threat.

Helena dropped to her knees, ready to spank Mary. She hesitated only a moment, but it was enough.

Mary rolled to her feet, snatched up her jump rope, and whipped it around. The rope landed against Helena's ribs, then snaked around to her back.

Helena gasped. Mary stood and swung again. Helena tried to evade but just managed to catch the strike against her bare back. A third whipping strike against her bottom broke the babysitter and she squealed into sob just as she snatched up her dowel.

Crying and cringing, the girls glared at each other though eyes puffy with tears. Their bodies ached and burned, but they gripped their weapons with desperate devotion unwilling to yield.

Then Mary gasped. "It's almost eight thirty!"

Helena felt her pulse quicken and she glanced at the clock. There were only ten minutes before Mrs. St. John would be home.

"If she see us like this," Mary said in a scared voice, "We’re both gonna be sorry."

Helena nodded and looked around. Remarkably, in their battle, the girls hadn’t broken anything. The only evidence of their struggle was on their bodies. And they could cover that by getting dressed.

"Come on," said Helena. They gathered up their clothes and scrambled for Mary’s room. Each still clutched their weapon but neither attacked.

Once in Mary's room, Helena set aside the dowel and began to put her clothes back on only to realize Mary had ripped both her shorts and her panties when she had jerked them down. She gave the younger girl a glare but Mary only shrugged.

"I don't suppose you've got some clothes I can wear?"

Mary nodded. "Sure." She sounded almost friendly.

The panties Mary gave Helena to wear were too tight and against her swollen and throbbing bottom so Helena decided to go without. Instead, she slipped into a loose fitting nightdress that fell to mid thigh. It covered the marks from the fight, so it did its job. Mary dressed in a pair of loose pajama pants and T-shirt. The tucked the rope and dowel in a back corner of the closet.

At that moment, the lights of an approaching truck could be seen through the window of Mary's bedroom even through the blizzard.

"Quick," said Helena, "get your homework out."

Mary nodded and dug though her backpack to pull out a math book. She sat on the floor, wincing at the sting of her welts. Helena snatched up a hairbrush from the dresser and sat behind Mary. Mary stiffened at first when Helena began brushing her hair, then relaxed.

Mrs. St. John stumped into Mary’s room without a knock. "It's a blizzard out there," Mrs. St. John lectured, "you'll not want to drive home tonight, Helena."

Helena nodded, "Yes ma'am. Did everything go all right at work?"

Mrs. St. John shrugged. "Well enough. I'm going to have to go back out. I just wanted to check in on you two."

"I’m finishing up my homework, mommy," Mary said.

Mrs. St. John smiled. "Good." Even smiling and giving praise, the large woman was intimidating. "Remember, bed by nine." She hooked a thumb behind her belt casually and both girls blanched.

"Yes, ma'am," the girls replied in unison. A few minutes later, they heard the truck retreat and let out a relieved sigh.

• • •

When the homework was done and they’d cleaned the remains of pizza from the kitchen, avoiding eye contact all the while, Mary invited Helena to join her in the shower.

“There’s probably not a lot of hot water left, but we should both clean up.”

They washed the dried sweat from their skin, and eased their aches. Of their marks. Both were bruised and bore welts, still scarlet. Even so, Helena offered to shampoo Mary’s hair. By nine o'clock they redressed and slipped into Mary's narrow bed.

The girls settled on their tummies faces inches apart.

"I'm not sorry," Mary said quietly. “You had no right to spank me."

"I'm not sorry either," Helena replied. “You had no right to speak to me like that."

"That still doesn't give you the right ..."

"Let's not do this again. Not now. We can agree to not be sorry. Okay?"

Mary laughed, a light, pretty sound. "So... so that's it? We just fight and now it's all okay?"

Helena smiled a little bit too. "Sure. Why not? Unless you want to come get your spanking?"

Mary snorted. “You first.”


End file.
